


Take to the Skies

by Navi_N0va



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst and Tragedy, Character Death, Developing Friendships, Discrimination, Distortion of History, Exploration, F/M, Fictional Religion & Theology, Headcanon, POV Female Character, POV Male Character, Reframing Evil as Good, Romance, Slice of Life, Speculation, The first half is gonna be super light ngl, Zealous Worship of Hylia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:02:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26129230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Navi_N0va/pseuds/Navi_N0va
Summary: The life of Hylia's Chosen Hero before his servitude to the Goddess Hylia is unknown. Surely, the First Hero must have had friends, or a family. What happened to him leading up to his four year imprisonment? What was he thinking in the middle of the war against the Demon King?[Fic features heavy speculation and headcanon for a oneshot manga that isn't even canon. This fic is a MASSIVE WIP, so for the time being, chapters will be very short as I get my writing across. I hope you enjoy the process as I figure things out, and perhaps the writing will change as certain systems and ideas become solidified.]
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey, uncle?”

Jiro chuckled as he eyed the young blond, who was hopping up and down on the ledge of the workbench. The man struck the molten metal again, a small chuckle leaving him.

“What is it, Link?”

“When am I gonna learn cool sword stuff?”

“What ever do you mean?”

Link stretched out a groan and clarified. “You know, what _you’re_ doing! The, uh, the smiting!”

“The term is ‘smithing,’ my boy.” Jiro chuckled once again, and he set the forming blade back into the kiln to heat. He walked up to the boy and patted him on the head, leather work gloves adding weight to the gesture. “You’ll learn when you’re older.”

“But how much older?” Link replied with a pout, eyes of ice staring up at his uncle. “I’m already seven. I’m like, halfway to adulthood!”

The man let out a hardy laugh at this, his brown beard bobbing up and down his chest. “Link, you’re still just a child! Knights may begin their training at such a young age, but you’re simply too young to be around white hot steel.”

“But-”

“Link, I cannot teach you right now.” Jiro’s face hardened, conveying to the blond that he was entirely serious. Just a moment later, however, he let out a sigh. “When you’re old enough to learn a trade, I shall teach you then.”

“When’s that?” Link asked softly, his long ears drooped as he pouted.

“I... I began learning when I was fourteen. Had your father followed the same path as I, he’d have begun at the same age.” The brunet paused a moment, taking a deep breath as he leaned over the workbench. “I shall teach you then, just as your grandfather taught me.”

Link’s eyes lit up upon hearing this. Beaming brightly, he ran up to his uncle and hugged him tightly, squeaking a series of ‘Thank you’s as he did. Jiro’s expression softened, and he chuckled as he patted the blond’s head again.

_Knock knock._

Somebody was at the door.

Eyes wide with curiosity, Link stepped towards the front door of the workshop, only for his uncle to block his way.

“It’s alright, I’ll get it. Now, run along and play with Orville, alright?”

“Okay!” Link replied with a smile.

* * *

It was sundown when Link returned to the workshop. He ran in from the back door, perhaps hoping to spook his uncle in the middle of his work. However, Jiro wasn’t there. Perplexed, the boy wandered about the workshop, glancing about each of the tiny rooms. Brows furrowed, he soon found himself in the house proper.

His uncle _had_ to be _somewhere!_ Yet, as Link opened every door and poked his head in, he couldn’t find any sign of him anywhere. The seven-year-old crossed his arms while he ascended the stairs. Uncle Jiro was _never_ done working before supper. Link always had to grab his dinner and bring it to him...

Finally, the boy opened the door to his uncle’s study. There, the man sat over his desk, head in his hands. The boy breathed a sigh of relief, now that he was found.

“There you are, uncle! How come you stopped workin’ on that sword?”

For a moment, Jiro didn’t reply. Link pouted at this.

“Uncle...?”

“I wanted to spend my remaining time with you wisely.”

“Huh?!” The blond squinted at his uncle’s reply, nose scrunched. “Uncle Jiro, what are you talking about?”

“I was visited by the Knights of Hylia today.”

“Yeah?”

With a sigh, Jiro continued. “They’re coming to collect you tomorrow morning...” Another sigh, yet the brunet never lifted his head. “You’re going to be a knight, Link.”

“Really?!” Icy eyes were lit with excitement, Link’s heart pounding as he started bouncing on his heels. “I’m really gonna be a knight? Just like my father?!”

At last, Jiro sat up properly, and he turned around in his seat to face his nephew, his eyes glassy and his face red. The boy froze where he stood.

“Yes, you are,” the man stated, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Uncle, are...?”

Link’s smile fell.

_“Why are you crying?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything will be a different length as I write whatever comes to mind day by day. Some parts will be longer than others, and some parts may connect to others.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story will be told from the POV of two characters. One of them is First Hero, and the other I'm introducing in this chapter.

_"O' Goddess Hylia, thank you for blessing us with this humble meal."_ The girl's tiny hands were clasped together, her head bowed slightly as she continued her simple prayer. " _May you forgive us for our sins, and may you continue to bless our food and bless us with life. May the white goddess smile upon us as we break bread."_

Without missing a beat, Celine beamed brightly and tore into her bread, practically chucking the dry heap into her soup so it could absorb the liquid. Her little feet kicked back and forth, and she hummed to herself as she counted down the seconds before her bread would be soaked enough to eat. 

Like a good little follower of Hylia, she prayed before every meal, just as her teachers and her father instructed of her. Every day Celine was to beg for forgiveness from the white goddess, as well as to beseech her blessings. Admittedly, she never took it too seriously. Sure, she prayed whenever she told a lie or snatched a cookie when she wasn't supposed to, but she never understood the massive weight that was placed on repentance. After all, she was only six.

She was told that her people committed "a sin grave enough for the white goddess to abandon them," but the specifics were never given. None of the elders in the city liked to so much as think about it, let alone utter it. 

Celine didn't let that bother her, however. Her bread was ready! It was a soggy abomination, having taken up a good third of the soup that was once in her bowl. The redhead eyed it with glee, and without hesitation she tried to get as much of the soup-bread amalgam into her mouth as she could muster.

Would she have to beg Hylia to forgive her for this? No doubt, Forge and Smithy would have called her bread a sin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter is significantly shorter than the first. I'm primarily writing so I can get all of my thoughts in one place when I eventually put everything together. I figure something's better than nothing, right? I hope you like this character, as she's central to the story.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is for certain to be part of a larger chapter eventually. This is one of the first things I've written in months, and as I continue, I'll return to polish this section.

Celine darted her head about, a pout evident on her face. Everyone in the courtyard was frozen in place- The trainees, the courtesans, the entire class! She glanced up to Mother Aleesha for guidance. Yet, the stone-faced Mother Aleesha... was weeping.

The girl's lime eyes shot open at the sight; and for a moment, she too was locked in place, too shaken to disturb whatever had moved her teacher to tears.

After a deafening eternity of silence, Mother Aleesha finally spoke.

_"The white goddess has blessed us..."_

She spoke in a cracked whisper, just loud enough for the eight-year-old to hear. Celine tilted her head, brows scrunched as she asked,

"Did she say something?"

A collective gasp fell over the courtyard. Suddenly, Celine could feel all eyes on her, yet she couldn't fathom why. Mother Aleesha's face had gone pale, her sunken eyes bugged out as she leered at the bewildered child.

_"You... **didn't hear** the goddess Hylia?"_

* * *

"I-I... I'm sorry, I-"

"I couldn't hear her, either." With a small gasp, Celine spun around to face the source of the voice. Forge was looking straight up at Mother Aleesha, his expression blank. "What did she say, Mother?"

The graying woman gaped at the children. Undoubtedly, she was horrified by the prospect before her. The white goddess denied the ears of _two_ devout youths?

"I..." She hesitated, only for her shoulders to stiffen and her face to harden. "If you couldn't hear the white goddess, then her words weren't meant for you!"

With that, she stormed off into the courtyard, making a beeline for the page boys' instructor. Though they were alone for a few moments, the redhead was still jittering with nerves, staring down at her shaking hands. She'd seen Mother Aleesha act coldly many times before, but it was always at older sisters. Never to her... After a moment, she made eye contact with Forge.

"You really couldn't hear her, Forge?" She was pouting once again, head tilted to the side. "But you froze up, too..."

"I, uh..." The boy shifted his weight from side to side, and he turned his head away. "I lied."

 ** _"What?!"_** Celine whisper-shouted. "Why'd ya lie?! Everyone's gonna look at ya funny!" Her ears drooped sadly at the thought. "Mother Aleesha was already looking at me funny."

To her shock, Forge merely shrugged in reply.

"At least it won't just be you!" The blond was beaming, his cheeks flushed slightly. "Guess they'll have to look at both of us funny!"

Celine was stunned by his words. He really didn't care about being treated differently? Everyone in the city would've put their faith in the Goddess Hylia above all else! Why not him...?

"Forge?"

The boy hummed in questioning. Without warning, Celine yanked him into a tight hug, her small arms squeezing his torso as tightly as she could muster.

"You're the best friend ever."

After a moment, Forge chuckled and hugged her back.

"Thanks, Celine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recognize these story beats don't tie together at the moment. My hope is that, as the story becomes more whole, the plot will become more cohesive. I can only hope that you'll enjoy the process.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein I introduce another original character. Despite him being a concept in my head for years, this is the first time I've properly written for him.

Link groaned softly as he slumped forward in his chair. The empty classroom was lit only by a single candle, yet that did nothing to impede the boy standing over him. Silas tapped the blond's desk with a ruler, his face stiff in his best attempt at sternness.

"You have to take these lessons seriously, Link!"

"I do when an adult does the teaching," he grumbled in reply, his voice muffled as his head rested soundly in his crossed arms. "Why'd ya wake me up for this, again?"

Silas scoffed, emerald eyes rolling. "Because, you couldn't hear the goddess Hylia! So you're _clearly_ doing something wrong!"

"I suppose." Link sighed and lifted his head, his eyebrows raised incredulously upon viewing the raven-haired boy's smug grin. Silently, Silas dug out his copy of the Historia, and he flipped to the centerpiece of one of last week's sermons.

"Now, since you _obviously_ haven't been paying attention for a while, let's start you off easy with the lessons from the week before. Now, Link, please turn to page fifty-eight."

With a slow nod, the blond grunted and turned to the same page, to which Silas wasted no time in imitating Mother Aleesha to the best of his ability.

_"As we beseech the goddess Hylia's blessings, we Hylians must turn to her teachings as a paragon of morality. Take, for instance, when she entrusted her most powerful and oldest disciples with..."_

Silas had been doing this every night since the white goddess spoke to the city. As far as everyone knew, only he and Celine couldn't hear her divine voice, with only Orville and the redhead knowing the truth concerning Link. For over a week, he considered telling Silas, as well; knowing him, he'd probably blab it to everyone within earshot. Silas was a pet in the fortress that way, always trying oh-so-hard to appear perfect in their instructors' eyes.

Of course, if everyone was to find out, then Celine would be left all alone...

_"And so, to punish the humans for conspiring to-"_

"Silas." Emerald eyes glared daggers at Link, as if daring him to continue his interruption. "Why are you doing this, anyway?" He gestured around the empty classroom, normally off-limits at this time of night. "Why do any of this?"

"Is it not obvious?" the mock teacher replied nonchalantly. "One of my friends hasn't been blessed with the white goddess's words, which means _I_ have to guide you back into her light."

"Because you heard her the clearest?" Link inquired, brow quirked. Silas nodded with a hum.

"Naturally!"

Perhaps the boy let that get to his head, try as he might to deny it.

Link sighed and stared down at his copy of the Historia, finger and thumb fiddling with the corner of the current page.

Her words couldn't leave his head.

_When the time is right, I will return to deliver my chosen people from the demon king._

In all honesty, he didn't expect hearing Hylia's voice to be so... **_unnerving._** It was if she was speaking directly to him; like her words were meant solely for him, and everyone around him only caught her words by mistake. Even then, why would the white goddess deny an eight-year-old girl of her message? Had Celine _really_ done something to warrant Her Grace's disdain? Was is simply because she couldn't use magic...?

"Link!"

Silas slammed the Historia down on the blond's desk, causing the poor boy to jump back and nearly tumble out of his chair. 

"By the gods, you really _aren't_ taking this seriously!

"It's _after **midnight,** _Silas," Link retorted, exasperated by his friend's callousness. If one of the guards heard the commotion and found them, they'd both be in massive trouble. "We gotta get outta here anyway..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm going to write about Orville at some point. It's going to happen one day.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This section will be heavily revised once I have more written for it. I'm currently developing my magic system and trying to figure out how to notate it.

"Again."

Celine took a breath and closed her eyes.

_In through the nose, and out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth._

She pressed her fingers to the open wound on the back of her hand. It was barely a scratch, little more than a paper cut.

_Stay focused, Celine. Say the magic words, and your hand will start tingling._

It was something her father told her a million times. Healing was supposed to feel like the warmth of a kindling flame. Her fingertips were supposed to tingle, as that was the magic gifted to them by the white goddess herself. Eventually, she wouldn't even have to think about using her magic. Eventually, it would become second nature.

For now, however, all she could do was pray.

_"Hylia sanat. Deus candidus sanat. Mea sanat, Hylia candidus."_

Celine waited, her eyes squeezed shut. Barely a minute passed. Suddenly, she felt Mother Aleesha's ruler strike her hand. The girl yelped in pain, only to be hushed into silence.

"Again!" the old woman screeched. Celine didn't dare open her eyes, to bear witness to her instructor's seething aggravation towards her.

"D... _Deus cand-"_

**_"Repent to the white goddess!"_** Mother Aleesha howled. "Your ceaseless failure brings shame to your father, and to the city of Dagianis."

"Yes, Mother," Celine whispered in reply. Though the girl's hand still bled, she clasped her hands together in prayer.

_"Domine, dimitte peccata mea. Peccata mea, Deus candidus. Mea culpa. Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa. Hylia candidus, dimitte peccata mea."_

She heard Mother Aleesha hum, and she could have sworn one of her sisters was snickering. Still, Celine recited her prayer once again.

_"Hylia sana mea. Deus candidus sanat. Hylia candidus, sana mea."_

A minute passed.

Celine never felt the warmth she so coveted, and her fingertips never tingled.

Her hand still bled.

"Sit down."

Celine obeyed, and she opened her eyes to be met with Mother Aleesha's scowl.

**_"Perhaps when your prayers are genuine, the white goddess will answer them."_ **

Curtly, she addressed the rest of the class. "Let this be a lesson to all of you! Those who fall from the white goddess's grace will find it nigh impossible to return to her radiance."

The little girl kept her head down the rest of the lesson, eyes glued to the Historia.

_What had she done wrong...?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Latin is very rough at the moment, and I hope to revise it once I've conducted more research. I really hope you like how things are going at the moment, because I hope to post more soon.


	6. Chapter 6

_... In her chosen people's darkest moment, the white goddess descended from the heavens. Her radiant harp strummed with music that stilled the battlefield, and she said simply unto her chosen people,_

_"My dearest Hylians. Quarrel not over such petty affairs. You have been blessed a thousand times over with gifts of fertile soil and bountiful land. You thrive within your city, and you've no worries to speak of. Please, my precious people, cease this fruitless feud."_

_The goddess Hylia's words were intended to quell the anger in the hearts of men, to realize what the white goddess had given them and to be thankful for them. Yet, all the same, the peoples in the land of Hylia wound up here..._

Link sighed as he closed the Historia. He stood and stretched his arms over his head, grunting as he did so. Though his legs ached with the sudden movement, the blond forced himself to shift his weight about the room. His feet scarcely left the floor, mostly dragging across the stone each time he paced.

Reading the same book over and over would do the man no good. Link knew that all too well. It didn't work when he was a child, whether the Historia was read to him by Silas or Mother Aleesha, and it certainly didn't work now. He memorized the holy book front to back, yet still he could not understand what compelled his people to go down the road they had taken, what had convinced them that the land of Hylia was their birthright, the city their gilded castle.

He shook his head again, half-lidded eyes straining from the lack of light. A torch across the room was the only thing illuminating his sight, though there wasn't much to see to begin with.

Resigned to the ponderings that plagued him, Link slumped down the damp, stony wall. There wasn't a point in wondering why the world had failed him, and he knew that painfully well. Dinner wasn't ready yet, so he'd have to find another way to entertain himself; the Historia certainly wouldn't provide as much. The blond hummed lowly to himself, a short melody that lingered on his conscious. He'd long forgotten the words of the song, having never sung the piece himself. Despite that, the remnants from his days as a squire were ever present. If his limbs didn't ache so much, he might have been tempted to break into dance. No doubt, she would have laughed at him for that one.

_Her..._

Link sighed through his nose. It had been months since he'd last seen her--or, had it merely been days? The only indicator of night and day for Link was the arrival of dinner, which still had not yet come. Yet still, he could no longer recall what day it was, nor the date or month. He didn't let that shake him, however, humming another tune at the thought of her.

Her long, auburn hair; her bright, mischievous smile...

Once more, Link reminisced over fonder times; more innocent, adventurous days, when there was little more to worry about than her, the land he called home, and all who lived in it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry it’s been a while since I posted anything. Trying to write for this has been rather hectic, and while I know this isn’t my best, I wanted to write something that would hopefully ease me back into this...


End file.
